


My Futon

by Kumikoko



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, 進撃！巨人中学校 | Shingeki! Kyojin Chuugakkou | Attack on Titan: Junior High
Genre: Angst, Armin Centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:19:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6793003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kumikoko/pseuds/Kumikoko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Armin's parents die, he experiences depression that eggs on a unhealthy dependency on a blanket his mother gave him.</p><p>-wrote because of Attack on Titan Junior High-</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Futon

**Author's Note:**

> I have been watching Attack on Titan Junior High and while it can be cute, I am irritated that they do a disservice to Armin's character. Armin is an intelligent young man who, yes, has insecurity issues but don't we all? Yet, the Anime does not reflect his intelligence at all! The anime just portrays him as this depressed, perpetually cold, and sick kid. I am really irritated about this. The only way the stupid futon thing makes ANY sense is in the way I describe it here. 
> 
> I also am greatly bothered by the way the Anime makes extreme light over certain scenes in the original Anime that were harrowing and horrific. I get that the Junior Anime is supposed to be a parody but does it have to insult everything Attack on Titan is? :/
> 
> In either case, this is just a short little fanfic to describe why Armin might be so attached to a blanket.
> 
> Enjoy?

**My Futon**

Families are an integral part of a child’s life.  When the inhabitants of a family do not get along well, or split up, a child’s world is shaken, and crumbles before them. Some children go through life insecure, while others find a way to become happy once more. This is because kids deal with tragedy differently. No matter how old a child is, the loss of a parent can be devastating to their psyche.

One child, Armin Arlert knew the incompressible pain of losing _both_ of his parents. He had been just seven years old when his parents died. They had been traveling to the Trost District in search of work when they were ambushed and slaughtered by bandits. The killing of innocent people confounded Armin. His parents were not rich, nor did they own anything that other people would covet.

Each day had been a struggle to survive, and today was no different. Armin felt lost without his parents, and missed them dearly. He clung tightly to the blue blanket he was wrapped in as a toddler. Mother had sewn it for him back when she was pregnant with him, so Armin was not letting it go because of the strong sentimental value he placed on it.

If he dared to venture outside the house, he would experience a panic attack. The home was all he had left of his parents—and the blanket. Grandfather was nice enough to sell his own home in order to keep Armin in the house he knew and loved. Armin briefly wondered if his grandpa preferred his own home, but then continued to think about his own suffocating misery.

Never again would Armin be hugged by his mother. The loss of her warm, positive energy made Armin feel coldly alone. The loss of Dad took his security away from him.

Without Dad, who was supposed to protect him from the world? Who was to teach him how to be a man? Armin knew his grandfather could fill in for his dad, but he did not want him to. He wanted his dad, and only his dad. Armin held the blanket closer and cried, for what seemed to be the thousandth time since the funeral a month ago.

Time had not made Armin’s loss any easier to deal with. If anything, Armin was more upset now than when he had first been told of his parents death. Armin supposed he was more sensitive now because he wasn’t in a state of shock. He was thinking clearly of how he never would eat one of mother’s meals again, or be tucked into bed by her and kissed goodnight. Dad wouldn’t be coming in through the door saying he was home either.

None of the usual, comforting things Armin took for granted then would happen now. In his grief, he could not realize he was taking his grandfather for granted as well, that, one day he would be gone too. Armin wanted to stay in his room, curled up with the blanket and weep. He had no interest in doing anything else.

Even playing with Eren and Mikasa had lost its appeal to him. Armin did not want to go to school, nor did he want to study either. Armin used to love learning about the world around him but he couldn’t even look at a book now without crying because his mother would have read the book to him if she was still around.

Grandfather did what he could to comfort Armin, but the hugs and words of encouragement were not nearly enough for a child who had suddenly lost both of his parents.

 _I did not even get to tell them goodbye_. Armin thought to himself and continued to sob.

A knock on the door made Armin still.

“Hey, Armin? Come to school with us! It’s Spring now so you can not use the excuse of being cold!” Came Eren’s voice from the other side of the door. Armin hugged the blanket tighter, as if it could protect him against the boy who wanted to bring him outside, where nothing smelled of his mother, or his father. “We’re not going away until you—“ Eren began, but his voice stopped as the door opened.

Mikasa pushed the door open and stepped inside, letting her self into Armin’s bedroom. Eren followed behind her.

“Come on already, it’s not cold out.” Eren informed the little blonde and held his hand out to him. Armin just stared at the offered hand.

“I am cold now.” Armin said, not realizing the chill he felt was psychological.

“We’ll run around and that will warm you right up.” Eren suggested and pulled a reluctant Armin to his feet. Armin looked at his best friend skeptically. “We miss playing with you. Please, Armin? I want us to have fun like we used to do.” Eren pleaded, staring into his friends sad eyes.

“You can keep your blanket.” Mikasa said upon seeing Armin’s grip on the fabric become stronger, as if he did not want to let it go.

“O-okay.” Armin finally agreed, placated that he could keep the blanket.

That was the first day in a month Armin was exposed to sunshine. The cold Armin felt did not dissipate, but he did not panic like he did the couple of times grandpa tried bringing him to the school house.

As long as he had his blanket, Armin realized he could function outside. This discovery led to him returning to school, much to his friends, and grandfathers elation.

Finally, Armin was allowing himself to be goaded out of his justified depression. Eren and Mikasa did not badger Armin about that blue blanket he took everywhere. They were happy to have their friend back, no matter what circumstance allowed their games to continue.

Other students tended to tease Armin about the blanket, insinuating he was a baby for carrying the blanket around. Armin would cry, Eren would punch them out, and then Armin would return home, to the only place he felt safe. The outside world took his parents from him—if he stayed within the home, he might be okay.

During the Summer, Armin kept the blanket wrapped around his body despite the uncomfortableness he began to experience in the form of sweating, and dehydration. Eren and Mikasa worried about Armin openly, but Armin shut down any talk of putting the blanket down before it started.

On one particularly hot day, Armin collapsed.

That was when something had to change.

Eren knew the blanket had been a gift from Armin’s mother which had at her death created a unhealthy attachment to it. Armin wanting to carry his blanket around with him had been kind of cute until he fainted from heat. Eren, at seven years old knew Armin had to let the blanket go. He knew he needed to convince Armin to put the blanket back on the bed in a way that would not make him flip out.

The couple times Armin had dropped the blanket, and when bullies had taken the blanket from him, Armin had suffered a panic attack. Eren could not just take the blanket from Armin, he knew that. He had to figure out a way to make Armin not want the blanket of his own free will.

“You always say you’re cold.” Eren said, wanting to get to the bottom of Armin’s dependency on the blanket.

“I am always cold.” Armin nodded with confirmation.

“This only started after you lost your parents, right?” Eren asked.

Armin paused, than nodded, dawning a guarded look on his face. Eren knew he had to go about this conversation carefully.

 “I think you feeling cold is actually you feeling lonely.” Eren suggested tentatively.

“Maybe.” Armin said, reflecting on how he missed his parents.

“What if I promised to be by your side forever?” Eren wondered inquisitively with a smile.

“You would do that for me?” Armin asked, and stared at Eren with skepticism.

“Yeah! I want to warm you up. I will even fill in the hole in your heart, if you let me.” Eren stated, wanting Armin to feel as if he had some control in the matter. Armin shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as he thought over Eren’s words.

“Alright. We’ll be best friends forever.” Armin decided, and for the first time in months he felt a warm spark ignite within his heart.

“Let me just borrow this…” Eren said and grabbed the blanket from Armin, and pulled it to him. Armin instinctively tried to grab the blanket, but then thought better of it.

 _Eren is here. He won’t ever leave me either_. Armin realized, and let Eren take the blanket from him.

Neither boy knew then just how much Eren saved Armin’s life that day.


End file.
